Lovers in Crime
by The Malevolent Mountain Queen
Summary: Whelp, Mike finally did it; he and his alters pushed the reset button and were united as one... All except Mal. As the malevolent teenager involuntarily explores the most forgotten memories of Mike's mind that had originally hidden themselves from view, he discovers some peculiar things. The most prominent, however, involve a very SPECIAL girl. Total Drama fic. Good read, promise.
1. Prologue

**Hiya!**

 **I was previously "Fishtank Productions," but I changed it because why not? :3**

 **So, I haven't updated this fic in, like, forever, but I will now try to update whenever I can. I kind of forgot about this for a while, but I've violently yanked it outta the gutter as you can see^^**

 **But enough about the outside world! I present to you, lucky reader, LOVERS IN CRIME!**

Silence.

The very point in time when the loudest thing in the room is the sound of your past regrets slowly gorging on the most tender flesh of your forever-tainted existence.

I make a pitiful attempt to move, but even my hands blatantly refuse to let me forget what I had done with them. My eyes glared at the piercing white blackness that would be unexplainable to even the most complex of minds. I try several more times, but I'm reduced to collapsing in a heap. Eventually, I realize there's no use in proceeding with such a redundant action and find myself breathing hard in defeated exhaustion.

My entire body is filled with a stinging sensation that punctures my skin like 50 tattoo machines drilling into my internal organs, radiating pain, reflecting what I had knowingly caused for others throughout my "life".

Heat is nothing but a syllable, a photogenic negative of the biting cold that is all too real.

I begin to ponder what or if I'm breathing. Is this was drowning feels like? Air deprivation? Maximum exposure to nitrogen?

Completely numb, I struggle to stand once again. It's a temporary victory. I make my way to what can only be described as a path or...something. Still sore from my invisible mousetrap, I trudge on, pain coursing through every part of me imaginable.

It's so loud... So incredibly loud...

I approach what could be considered a cloud. A memory cloud. My memory cloud.

NO! No memories. I want to have a new beginning, a fresh start, a different era of life.

A reset button, if you will.

Yeah, I created the reset button. Of course, it should have only put me in hiding, but it MALfunctioned (I probably would laugh at the lame pun if I weren't in such a wounded state) and brought me to this wasteland of-whatever this was-instead. Why had I expected it to work in the first place? Mike has all the power around here.

"Shoo, you worthless pile of...trash!" I make a hand gesture for it to float away, but it doesn't budge. How odd... These things always bolt at the sight of me...

The cloud beckons me to come closer, but I vigorously shake my head and wave my arms in hope of scaring it away. It continues to tread towards me.

I stumble backwards again, but end up falling flat on my back, which is precisely what causes my paralysis to set in once again. I yell, scream, even throw punches at the cloud, but it remains unfazed. Simply staring at it for too long was nothing short of excruciating. "NO! Do you know who I am? Why won't you DIE?!" I shriek at the cloud and gasp between violent words, signifying the near end of my sanity. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO REMEMBER HELL ON EARTH! MY LIFE HAUNTS ME ALREADY, AND YOU WANT ME TO PRACTICALLY RELIVE IT?!"

The only physical thing I'm capable of feeling now are tears burning my frozen face as I experience an overwhelming wave of anxiety, topped with a sickeningly warm screech erupting from my frigid throat. The last time I had let tears escape me was...

The cloud moves in, and a small voice reveals itself. "Deep down, you are so much more than you think. Please. Stop doing this to yourself."

"Shut UP! I'm not doing anything, imbecilic cretin! I hate you, do you hear me? I HATE you!"

The cloud sighs. "If only you knew who I was, Malcolm."

My mouth is agape, the saltiest of water droplets scorching my tongue. No one knows my real name, not even the others. So how...?

The cloud continues to approach me, and I can feel myself hyperventilating. I can't even crawl with my elbows, and my eyes are stuck open, the distant fog emanating from the cloud making them water uncontrollably.

"Don't come any closer! I-I'm warning you!" I try. Threats usually do the trick. But it doesn't fear me. Why isn't it trembling in terror?

The cloud does not acknowledge my last words. I let out one final, piteous sob as its mist swallows me whole, and my already-dim vision becomes darker than my soul has ever been.


	2. Hello From the Other Side

I inhale sharply and dig my fingers into the rugged beneath me.

 _…I haven't felt drained like this since All-Stars…_

I gradually lift my forearms to my eyelids and pry them open with the remainder of whatever strength I can muster, and they quickly fall outward.

I take in my surroundings. Rugged terrain. Earthly aroma. Pine trees. Yes, this is undeniably a forest.

"I was wondering when you'd show up!" beams an annoyingly chipper voice reverberating around the forest. I recognize it as the cloud, its gender still unidentifiable.

"What the hell do you _want_ from me?" I roar to no one.

"Oh, I'm not 'no one.' Believe me, you wouldn't have a difficult time establishing my identity if…" Their confidence suddenly falters. "…If you remembered me."

I force myself to my feet and growl defiantly at the voice. "Cut the mysterious, sentimental crap. How do I get back to the tower? Tell me now, and you won't suffer the consequences later."

"What makes you think I'd tell you? The whole point of my dragging you here is so you can—"

"Hold it. You _dragged_ me here? With your _hands_?"

"Well, you more-or-less brought _yourself_ here, but it'd only be a waste of time to explain further."

"Not sure if you've noticed, simpleton, but at the moment, I have all the time in the world." I can feel my teeth grinding.

"Fair enough, but that isn't why you're here. Now, I want you to become silent for a moment. Do you hear something?"

"Yes, I do, in fact." I place an arm behind my ear. "I hear the sound of a wild moron. They're quite common in this area."

"Just shut up and listen."

"Funny, I thought you would be a mentor-sensei with an endless amount of 'wisdom' and the embodiment of cheesy quotes people put on stock photos on Instafam."

"And here _I_ thought you weren't as cocky as Manitoba."

"You can't compare someone like me to-"

A sudden rustling from behind halts my insults. Then, some random kid leaps into view and falls flat on his face with a grunt. A black hoodie obscures said most-likely-injured complexion, and his right leg seems to be trailing massive amounts of blood. The child hops back up and continues to bolt toward a clearing.

"Follow him," the voice urges. "Follow him and you'll find the answers to your questions."

"Well, I was going to anyway to watch him die, but okay."

The voice doesn't reply.

I break into a grin as well as a sprint. It's nothing short of salubrious to be able to run again. It nearly feels real.

And I hit a tree.

"Yeesh, you don't have to run, kid! He's not that fast! Just…jog or something," remarked the voice.

"How do you even run into trees in your own-?"

"You're only limited by your imagination."

"Riiiiight," I deadpan. "Thanks for that. I was in dire need of more of your philosophical bullsh-"

"Get up."

"Don't tell me what to do." Nonetheless, I pull myself off the dirt with a nearby oak (that of which was probably the same one I collided with), brush off my pants, and continue on my way.


	3. Mirror

Carefully careening around massive pines whilst ducking every five seconds to avoid looming twigs and such, I gradually gain on the runt. Based on his shallow breathing, clumsy posture, and raspy grunts, I wager he won't last four more hours. _Maybe I can make use of his carcass if I get desperate..._

"Wait, what?" the voice calls.

I feel a smile crawl onto my face. "Maybe I can utilize that kid's scrawny corpse for something."

"Sure..." Its anxiety is more than apparent.

Ignoring its unease, I inquire, "So, are you male or female?"

"You can't tell?"

"Nope." I latch onto a sturdy-looking branch above me and swing onto the edge of a cliff, skidding to a stop a foot or so before I have a chance to slip into the maw below.

The kid had somehow reached the other side, but is nowhere to be found. And that's when my ears graze a faint whimpering. I bend down in the direction of the quiet cries of distress, and sure enough, the small maggot is clinging to a root from one of the trees for his worthlessly precious life. How amusing.

I stoop to my stomach with my arms resting upon one another underneath the weight of my head, which lulls to the side peacefully. I slowly bring my chin to the edge of the cliff and glance downward, ready to watch the light fade from his eyes before he permanently plunges into the sea of blackness.

However, the boy doesn't even cry for help; he's simply hovering over the crevasse as if it doesn't exist, as if he is in no mortal danger. He refuses to look up at the sky; his hoodie will likely stay with him and his unknown identity for eternity. Even I feel obligated to respect the courageous lad, what with going out with utmost dignity and spending his last moments of life fighting against human instinct and all. I begin to ponder if the brat is perhaps mute and is unable to produce coherent screams that _don't_ sound like a rabid badger.

"Just let go," I encourage him after an irritating few minutes without action. "Lose the grip, freak. No one'll miss you, I promise." I chuckle a bit. Any minute now, he'll blubber about wanting help, which will be my cue to personally assist him, similar to the incident with Cameron in the mine.

No response.

"Nobody will ever want you. You're obviously too stupid to remember not to fall into deep, spooky pits."

Nothing.

"What's the point of waiting? Let's wrap this up, I'm officially dying more than you are of boredom. The thing looks at least half a kilometer deep; it'll be quick."

Is he deaf as well?

Suddenly, he raises his head to the sun, and gravity eases the hood from his face, revealing damp streaks of optometric rain, as well as his visual identity.

Oh, would you look at that.

The kid is me.


	4. Blank Space

I lean in close to Younger Me, smirk, and softly whisper, "You don't deserve to live. You are nothing short of worthless. So, quite literally, die in a hole. There would be world peace if you ceased to exist."

He doesn't seem to receive the message.

"You're visiting your past memories. I didn't hand you some time machine." Although I cannot actually see the Voice's facial expression, I infer that he's rolling his eyes.

 _Already desensitized to my words, huh? That's no fun._ "He...really can't hear me?"

"Nope."

Agitation sets in. "Why didn't you say something earlier?"

"All will be explained when you open your eyes."

"My eyes _are_ open, genius."

"If you say so."

"So...What am I doing here, then?" I drum my fingers against the grass.

"You will explore your long-forgotten memories from ages six to ten in order to reveal lost aspects of yourself."

"Fabulous."

"Sarcasm won't prevent you from falling, Mal."

"Bite me."

"No, seriously, you're losing your grip."

"What?" And that's when I discover that I continue to slide halfway down the crevasse. "Oh, sh-"

And the kid speaks. "I remember when Mommy said I could be anything."

I shimmy back to my original position and narrow my eyes. "What are you talking about? We never had a 'mommy.'"

He proceeds to blankly stare into the distance. "She told me that I could be the most successful engineer in the world if I wanted to and that no one would ever stop me. I guess that's why the last person I'd ever expect to be the enemy was...myself." His face scrunches up. More tears. "And I wish I could stop it, but I can't change who I am! Who I'm supposed to be! I just wish...I just wish..."

"Ugh, enough with the sappiness. Are you sure this isn't Mike? He doesn't even have my hairstyle."

"You two are one in the same at this time."

"So, we haven't split apart yet...But I don't remember this."

Silence.

Another voice calls from beyond my view. "Yoohoo! Why are you hanging around down there? You could get hurt!"

 _Great, another omniscient presence._

But instead, a female, prepubescent brunette peeks over the side. "Can't-cha talk?"

Little Me (Little Him, Little Us, whatever) glares at her through his waterworks. "Yes, my vocal chords are fully functional," he deadpans. "What do you want?"

"I can't understand those big words, but I know someone's in need when I see it. Here, lemme get my rope..."

"Don't bother. I can do it myself."

"Then why are you still-?"

"Just shut _up_ and let me...No...Nonono...Don't..." He scrapes the sides of the thin canyon as the root snaps in two, desperate for leverage. He lets out a terrified scream before the girl plucks his hand and yanks him to the surface in one swift grab.

Now standing on solid ground, Little Us brushes himself off, panting.

The girl giggles, her shaggy, straight hair bouncing along with the rest of her. "You scream like my little sister!"

He growls.

"Don't be such a grouch. I _did_ just save your life, after all."

"No, you didn't. I coulda survived that."

The girl's carefree glow is replaced with a sour, wounded scoff. "You could at least say, 'Thank you.'"

His anger dies, and his dirt-smudged face twists into remorse. "Look, I apologize. I do appreciate it." He briefly turns around in the direction of where he had been running from. "I've just...had a _really_ bad day."

"That's no excuse to be such a meanie." Her lip trembles. "I've had a bad day, too."

"What happened to you?"

"All my friends are such...such...jerks!"

His eyes widen. "That's not a very nice word."

I find myself snickering and standing firmly in front of the two of them. _Wait, how did I get here?_

"Sorry, but I don't know what else to call them!" she laments. "They won't leave me alone, and they steal all my new toys and break 'em and stuff. What about you?"

"I...I don't wanna talk about it. Do we have to talk about it?"

"Yeesh, you don't have to get so scared, and you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"I have never been so elated to hear such..." He looks at his feet, as if intently studying the scenery. "...redundancy."

She cackles. "You talk funny! I like you."

She embraces him tightly, to which he quivers and is almost petrified. "Get off of me."

"Why? Don't you know what a hug is?"

His voice picks up pace. "Yes, I am highly familiar with the concept of this display of affection. It unnerves me. Now, **get off**!"

"Okay, okay!" She lets go and takes several steps back. "What's wrong?"

"That is none of your concern."

Her eyebrows furrow, and all is silent for a few awkward moments. "Well, I'm gonna go now. It was...nice to meet you...I guess. Bye!" She walks to the nearest area of the forest at first, then breaks into a full-on sprint.

 _And good riddance._


	5. On My Way

****Hey, guys! Sorry for such a long wait. Truth be told, I had finished this entire chapter a few months ago, but for some reason, it said that I wasn't logged into my account, and the enTIRE THING WAS DELETED. I was so depressed about it that I couldn't really bring myself to write it all over again since. However, I'm back, and this time, every chapter will be saved to Google Docs, so I'll be updating much more regularly. Again, sorry about that. XD I'll try to post a new chapter at least once a week.****

 ** **A quick sidenote: I've decided to change Mal's full name from Malcom to Malachi (pronounced "Mal-uh-kai"). It just sounds more epic, and over time, it kind of grew on me.****

 ** **Anyway, I'll shut up now. You guys have been waiting for long enough.****

Almost immediately after the girl scurries away, a sharp pain randomly pierces my head.

I inhale shakily and struggle to remain standing. "They're throbbing…"

"What's throbbing?" the Voice inquires.

"My temples, genius."

"I see." A pause. Then, "Okay, Malachi. In order to move things along more smoothly and to lower your currently critical stress level, I'm going to-erm, you could say-readjust your thought process to fit a narration of third-person past-tense. This may not be the most pleasant experience, but I assure you, it'll be worth it in the end."

A strange wave of dread takes over me. It's noticeably more difficult to breathe. I glance down at my body, and similar to when Mike defeated me, it begins to repeatedly fade in and out of existence. "What?"

"We can save time without the commentary, and your soon-to-be lack of self-awareness will prevent any unnecessary emotional trauma."

"Are you conveying that I won't even have a body in _here_ anymore? Is that what you're implying? No. No! I'm not sure as to how you're doing this, but-!"

"It's too late. I'm sorry, Malachi."

Instead of my semi-physical form simply dissipating, it starts...scattering itself...into sporadic little sections, akin to the layout of stars. As surprisingly remarkable as the sight is, it does nothing to distract me from the rapid incline of what can only be described as...the heat. Boiling, burning, blistering, humid air packs tightly underneath my skin. "Say, there...um…" I catch my breath. "You don't happen to also have some kind of cooling power or something, do you?"

"Some kind of...what?"

"Or could you….maybe….drop a glacier on top of me?" I try.

"Excuse me?"

"At least a glass of water?" I'm too disoriented to raise my voice. Seconds feel like hours. I fall to my knees and clutch the gaps around my eyeballs, ready to claw them out at a moment's notice.

"No, please, don't do that! There's no need to hyperventilate."

Every part of me is trembling. "I'm...not...hyperve…hyperventilating…"

"Yes, you are! Malachi, do you even hear yourself? And quit scratching your chest. You're bleeding everywhere."

"I can't hear anything, simpleton, except you and my own f-failing lungs! And now, even you are starting to sound like you're on the other end of a...of a...wind tunnel…"

"You're speaking too quickly." The Voice suddenly lowers its volume to barely over a whisper. It then proceeds to address me as if I'm a child. "Shhh...Sh-sh-shhhh…" It gets closer. Then some mysterious force begins to gently rub my back. I feel myself scowl, but would rather tear off my own flesh to reduce the heat than focus on removing the hand. "Please, calm down. It's better this way, I promise. It'll all be over in just a moment. In the end, you'll….be… just… ...fine."

And all at once, everything that I am...and everything inside of me collides...in a blur...of jumbled sentence fragments...Nothing makes...sense... _Help. Help. Help me. Die. Die. I want to die. Out. I need out. Someone get me out. Get me out. Of here. This place. Now. Where am I? What am I? Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._ ** _STOP IT_** _._

Scrambling away from the more-than-intimidating chasm, heading toward the nearby forest where he watched the little girl disappear into, the boy advanced in her direction with as much speed as he could muster. He was not too keen on encountering the agitating female a second time, but he knew that apologizing for his severely unacceptable behavior was as necessary as the fissure in the ground was deep.

A light breeze whistled throughout the sky, further encouraging him to pick up the pace. A flash of a miniature chocolate meadow swishing freely in the air indicated that he was on the right track. Busting a left, quickly evading a skinny oak, he eventually arrived at his destination. "Hey," he breathlessly called out from behind her, "I'm so...I'm sorry. Look, I understand: you were only trying to help. My brother would've done the same. He's awesome."

The girl jumped and swiveled around the moment the first word hit his mouth. "Huh? Oh…" She crossed arms behind her back, still wide-eyed. "It's okay...It happens a lot."

"What do you mean? I'm sure there are many people out there far more grateful than I am. Anyway, I should probably go. I have a long journey ahead of me...and stuff…" He casually began to back away, hoping that she'd get the message and wouldn't bother tagging along.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

The boy's left eye twitched slightly, but he paused regardless, only long enough for her to hear him for certain. "Does it matter to you?"

"Well...Yeah? No? I dunno. I just…"

"You're just curious? Is that it?" he deadpanned.

"Mm-hmm."

"...If you must know, I'm headed for Toronto."

"Really?" I pinch of excitement was sprinkled into her eyes by the fingers of wonder. "Wow…That's really, really, REALLY far. How-?"

"Yup. At least two-thousand miles, I think. Now, I'm just gonna go, and...uhh...Don't follow me, please…" He didn't know how much nicer he could put it.

"Can I come with you? PLEASE?"

He refused to look back. He recalled the time that his eldest brother told him all about girls and that some were fairly genuine whilst others only treated him like their own personal bank. _Guess this is one of those moochy bank-robbers,_ he thought. He continued walking.

"I have nowhere to go. They all hate me." She sounded as if she might cry.

He rolled his eyes. "No one is hated by EVERYBODY. That's impossible."

"But it feels like it," she whined. "They make fun of me because I make new things."

He stopped. Intrigued, he replied with a perplexed, "What?"

She fiddled with her hair. "Well...y'know...When I mash up my crackers and make them into shapes, they all laugh at me. Especially when I put my apple sauce in the middle."

This statement caused the boy to slowly turn his head in her direction and raise a bewildered eyebrow. "Come again?"

Frustration became evident in her pupils. "Come on! Haven't people ever laughed at YOU?"

He snorted. "Of course. All the time. But do I give them the satisfaction of knowing they hurt me? No. Showing them any sign of weakness is nothing short of ludicrous to me." He put his hands in his pockets.

"I don't understand those big words. You sound too much like a grown-up," she sulked.

"Well, then...good. Goes to show how difficult it would be to survive with me." He trudged on once again.

"Survive?" She gasped. "What if you die?"

And, again, he halted, temporarily at a loss for words. He hesitated before replying, "Guess I'll have to let fate decide, huh?" After a silent pause or waiting on her answer, he mumbled, "It's better than going back THERE, again."

"Going back where?"

"I need to go. Leave me alone," he harshly scolded, sounding more sullen than he would have prefered.

"But I wanna-!"

"NO." He heard sniffling from behind. He clenched his fists, bit his lower lip. "My answer is no. Weren't you ever taught how to say, 'no'?"

The air grew still. No reply. He assumed that she shook her head. "Well, if you remember one thing from your encounter with the likes of me, if people attempt to pressure you into doing something that requires major boundaries being crossed, just. Say. No. And take others' words into consideration if they say the same. 'Kay? You've got that?"

"I think so...But the big words-"

"Well, sucks to be you, doesn't it? So long, brunette. And hey, if it helps, don't let those bullies tie you down. They just wish they could be as...unique as you." And with that, he flipped the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and dashed into a thicker neck of the woods.


End file.
